The Art of Prank
by DappleRose
Summary: This story was written for GT's April Fool's Day contest. Slightly plotless, but deemed funny by Imogen. *shrugs* H/G, singing Draco.


****

The Art of Prank

By DappleRose

A/N: Thanks to Paula for posting this challenge and Imogen and Michaela Child for bothering to help me with it. I hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write. (Geez, how mundane was that?!) Also, having never before played Sockie Hockey, I took the liberty of using ice. You'll see what I mean. 

**__**

March 28th

Harry Potter was settled comfortably into a soft chair in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He sighed contentedly, lost in his own small world. His mind journeyed back to earlier in the day, when he had asked Ginny to go with him to Hogsmeade. It still surprised him that she was willing to be with him, even though they'd been going out for a year. Harry's mind flew back to earlier in the day.

~*~*~*~

The fifth years were just getting out of their classes as Harry made his way up the hall. His keen Seeker eyes searching for that glint of crimson hair that was trademark to that one particular fifth year. He swept his way to her, catching admiring glances along the way. He'd become used to these sidelong peeks, though they still made him uneasy…especially when his girlfriend was around. 

"Hey, Harry," Ginny whispered while pulling him into a tight hug.

They chattered as he escorted her to the Great Hall. There, they sat down at the Gryffindor table to have lunch.

"Gin," Harry stammered as she helped herself to a sausage, "The H-hogsm-meade w-weekend is soon…and I was w-wondering if y-you'd like to go with m-me." He had the impression of a very scared dog.

Ginny looked at him in confusion for a few seconds then was overcome by a fit of giggles. 

"Of course I'll come Harry, you great prat." She managed to voice this through her laughter. "…The look on your face…"

~*~*~*~

All that was behind him now, as he listened to the fire crackling in the hearth. He was going to go to Hogsmeade with Ginny on Sunday. Harry mulled this thought over in his mind. 

Suddenly, Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. Sunday was April Fool's Day. He clapped a hand to his head. Ginny was the Queen of April Fool's Day. This, she had proven last year…

~*~*~*~

**__**

April 1 of Last Year

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny had been chatting amicably in the Great Hall, which was slightly chaotic. Jelly Legs curses were flying everywhere you turned, and it was not uncommon to see students with prosthetic ears in odd places or flaming hair. The professors had taken refuge in a separate staff room when Dumbledore had refused to calm the students down. It was "all in good fun", it seemed. Their conversation had just moved on to Quidditch, when Draco Malfoy had come up behind Harry.

"The Orphan and the Pauper," he had sneered at Harry and Ginny. "What a couple. No money, no parents, and not enough brains to fill a teacup."

Harry was instantly at his feet, wand in hand.

"Say that again, Malfoy." 

Ginny had watched this scene in amusement as this scene unfolded before her eyes. She pulled out her wand as Malfoy was about to attack and muttered something discreetly under her breath. 

Malfoy stopped in mid-curse and his hand had fallen slackly to the side. His mouth opened widely, making him look like a goldfish groping for water. Then, like something out of a bizarre dream, he burst into song. 

Malfoy's eyes betrayed his fear and confusion as he began to swivel his hips and sing at the top of his lungs, "La la la la la la, sing a happy song, La la la la la la, smurf the whole day long!…" 

"Hmmm…" said Ginny, impressed. "I didn't know he knew the words to the Smurf theme song." Then, a bit louder, "April Fools, Malfoy!"

Now, everyone in the Great Hall was watching Malfoy sing, laughing. Someone shouted a spell, and Malfoy's trousers were pulled down, revealing a pair of boxers. It probably would have stopped there, had these boxers not been pink and dotted with teddy bears that actually bounced up and down. 

The sight of this brought tears of laughter to Ginny's eyes. It was the most talked about topic for months afterwards, and people still enjoyed teasing Malfoy about it.

~*~*~*~

So, Harry could _not_ be caught off guard on Sunday. He started to scheme up a plan for April first. Just then, though, Ginny launched herself into his lap. She wiggled around and settled there, her head on his chest.

"Hello, there," he said, looking down at her lovingly.

She proceeded to kiss him, sending him into a more blissful state of mind than any Imperius Curse could ever do.

"Mmmm…" she sighed breathlessly as they pulled apart. "Hi."

He traced a finger along her jaw line, bringing her lips up to meet his again.

~*~*~*~

**__**

March 29th

Ginny was lying on her bed at 2:26A.M**. **She had counted the cracks on the ceiling (47, to be exact), so now she was staring at the scarlet hangings of her four-poster. The yearly question raced through her mind- what was she going to do for April Fool's Day? 

Every year, people expected her to have a brilliantly creative plan in mind. They said it "ran in the family". So each year, she schemed and plotted, trying to live up to the Weasley name. 

With a jolt of inspiration, she sat up abruptly, an enormous grin on her face. She had an idea, but would need a bit of help…

~*~*~*~

**__**

Later in the Day

Ginny crept along the side of the corridor leading to Divination, concealed in Harry's invisibility cloak. She peeked into the professor's office to insure that Professor Trelawney was out of seeing range. Professor Trelawney was inside engaging in a full-fledged snog session with Filch…Filch?! Ginny started to giggle, deciding that some things were better left undiscovered. 

She made her way back to the heavily perfumed fire of the classroom, and took out a small velvet bag of Floo powder. Tossing some into the flames, Ginny whispered, "To the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" and stepped inside. Fred and George had set up their store in Hogsmeade a while ago. So far, it had been very successful, even surpassing Zonko's in sales last month. 

Ginny landed in the store's fireplace, covered in soot and spluttering. A vast store, lined with shelves greeted her as she stepped out of the grate and performed a small spell to dust herself off. Expertly, she moved to the shelf containing trick wands and other things of the sort. She was just in the middle of picking something out, when a loud bang and a puff of pink smoke emitted from a back room. George stumbled out, closely followed by Fred, coughing and fanning their hands in the air. They caught sight of her, huge grins spreading across their faces.

"Ginny!" they chorused as one as they came to her. 

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"It's lunch break, and I came here to get some help on an April Fool's joke."

"Brilliant!" chimed George. "You're a true Weasley."

"Well, you see…" Ginny continued to explain her idea to her brothers, who were shaking their heads at her.

As soon as she was finished, Fred plucked two long boxes and a tiny leather-bound book from the top shelf and handed it to her. 

"Good luck."

~*~*~*~

"Ron! Ron!" Harry hollered, running to catch up with him in the corridor. "Ron, I need your help."

Ron's eyes suddenly widened. "Blimey, Harry. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing like _that_, you great lug!" Harry smiled. "Sunday is April Fool's Day."

A grin of knowledge spread across his friend's face to match it. 

"Oh no, mate. If you're planning something against Ginny, leave me out of it." Ron cringed. "She'll get you back. Watch what you're thinking, if you know what's good for you." Then, he turned and walked away.

~*~*~*~

**__**

March 30th

At one a.m., Harry Potter could be seen hunched over in the Common Room, studying huge, dusty books with an immensely wicked glint in his eyes. Upon closer evaluation, an onlooker could notice that these texts had nothing to do with schoolwork. In fact, they had titles such as, "Practical Jokes for Those with No Sense of Humor" and "Get ['Em] Back". 

Ron was creeping down the stairs to the Common Room, when he came upon this odd sight. Harry was scratching wildly with his quill on a long piece of parchment, most of which was already full. Ron strode across the room and poked his friend in the back, causing him to jump at least a foot off of the chair, snapping his neck back to see whom it was. 

"What are you doing here?" questioned Ron.

"Here, look," Harry pushed the book he was currently looking at towards Ron, who picked it up in interest. "Maybe you can help me. I'm still looking for that joke to play on Ginny." 

Ron dropped the book in surprise. Obviously, there was a bit more to this fear of Ginny than Harry had realized. Maybe he should just back off? No, this was just too good of an opportunity to miss. 

"Ron, if you don't want to help, you don't have to."

"I told you to stay away from that idea, mate. Don't say I didn't warn you. If you don't pin any of this on me, though, I'll help you. I've always wanted to get back at her for the time she got all of my things to zoom around the room and attack me." Ron pushed back his hair, revealing a slightly pinkish scar that looked a bit like a bat. "See, that's where Scabbers…er…Pettigrew smacked into me. Nasty bugger, even then."

Harry burst out laughing. 

"Oi, it's not _that _funny!"

"Ron!" Harry wheezed, "that's it!"

As Harry began to explain himself, he transfigured two of his quills into mugs and conjured up some tea. 

"Bleuckh!" Ron spat the tea out in disgust. "American tea! Horrid stuff!"

It was going to be a long night.

~*~*~*~

**__**

Later in the Day

Harry was walking to Hermione's room, intent on borrowing her History of Magic notes. There was a huge essay he had to do on the importance of the activist known as "The Bartender" on the current inflating number of butterbeer flavors on the market. 

As he past Ginny's dormitory, he heard giggling and whispers. Intrigued, he peered through a crack in the door to see Hermione and Ginny engaging in the most secret of what seemed to be "ceremonial affairs". It was a mystery to him and his fellow men. He leaned closer, experiencing what few men had ever seen before. This was the sacred "Girl Talk". 

Ginny leaned forward to whisper something to Hermione, which was followed by a rampaging fit of giggles. 

"Do you really think he'll fall for it? Harry's not as dense as he looks," Ginny giggled. 

"Yes. It seems awfully mean though. Can you get it to work? It'll be hard to pull off." 

"Well…that's where you come in. _I_ can't pull it off all by _myself_, but with _your_ help, I bet I could…" Ginny now had that wicked glint in her eye that made Hermione start laughing.

"All right, I give. I'm in. Mind you, I feel a bit sorry for Harry after we get through with him." So, they _were _talking about him and April Fools Day, thought Harry.

There were more whispers from inside the room, but Harry couldn't make out what they were saying. He turned back to the Common Room, forgetting the essay.

~*~*~*~

**__**

March 31st

He had only one day to prepare himself, one day until the final frontier. One day until battleground Hogwarts and he was still in bed. The sunlight streamed in from the crack between the velvety curtains. It was too early to be up. After all, it was only…he checked his watch…11:17. Harry groaned and rolled over onto his side, one hand reaching for his glasses. It seemed the room was empty of everyone but him. It was no wonder as they were probably all at Hogsmeade. He pushed himself up groggily and dressed. There were only a few first and second years in the Common Room. Most probably were out on the grounds, enjoying the sunlight. He cruised to the window, still in a trance. There, he could see over most of the lake and the Quidditch field. He spent a moment scanning the scene, before his eyes focused on an odd site. 

A girl with fiery hair was marching across the Quidditch field, her wand in one hand, and a small book in the other. She was scanning the book quickly as her mouth and hand worked together to perform numerous spells on the ground which illuminated for one brief instant before becoming normal once more. 

~*~*~*~

Ginny Weasley flopped onto her four-poster. Casting spells to get the Quidditch field ready was more tiring than she had thought it would be. It would all be worth it, though, if… no, _when _her plan worked. 

~*~*~*~

**__**

April 1st

It was 3:00 am, and WAY too early to be up, in Harry's opinion. Not even Oliver Wood used to get the Gryffindor Quidditch team up that early. Shaking his mind out of that train of thought, he sneaked up the stairway to the fifth year girls' room. Inside, he felt his way to Ginny's four-poster, tripping over something that felt suspiciously like a chicken on the way. His thoughts were confirmed when the object ruffled its feathers and squawked loudly. Harry froze, afraid that it would awaken the whole of Gryffindor. His breath caught tight in his throat as he listened to the clock tick on the wall. After a minute of silence, he finally breathed again and crossed the few remaining steps to where Ginny lay asleep. 

Harry gazed into her face, memorizing every feature as he had done hundreds of times before. Snapping out of his reverie, he pulled out his wand. He looked at her peaceful figure once more before pointing his wand at her and uttering, "Mitto misi missum anemalus." Now, all he had to do was wait until she woke up for the spell to take effect.

~*~*~*~

__

At 8:15 A.M.

Ginny woke up with a small headache. She rubbed her forehead, and tried to recall what day it was. Suddenly remembering, she snapped up from her bed and dressed with fury. Today was going to be perfect. It had to be. She opened the door leading to the stairway with glee. 

Something came whizzing at her like a comet, hitting her in the nose. This 'something' was green and rubbery, thought Ginny. What was more, it wouldn't come off. She tugged at it, shook her face, and tried to slap it off, but it was no use. Soon, more objects were zooming at her. They all stuck to her like Spellotape. Ginny yelped as the largest of these…these…_things_ came whipping at her, smacking into her left leg and clawing into it. It cried out helplessly, as did the rest of these objects.

Ginny forced her eyes to focus on the hairy thing on her left leg. It seemed to be large, hairy, and orange. It also had…claws. "Crookshanks!" Ginny's muffled voice could be heard from behind what she could now recognize as Trevor. 

She hobbled down the staircase, cloaked with furry and scaly animals. She vaguely wondered if she had attracted any spiders, but immediately cringed and dismissed the thought. She had been afraid of spiders ever since Ron had told her about their encounter with Aragog. 

"Harry Potter!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the walls of the Common Room. "Get your sorry arse down here!"

A large chair swung around to reveal Harry, grinning winningly from ear to ear. 

"Yes, Gin? Is there something wrong?"

"Don't humor me, Potter! Reverse this…this…curse!"

Laughing, he pulled his wand out of his sleeve and muttered a spell. The animals immediately flung themselves off of her body and started wobbling around the floor drunkenly, causing Ginny to giggle. She tramped over to where Harry was still sitting and slapped him saucily. 

"April Fool, Gin."

"Ha ha. You think you're _so_ funny, don't you. That hurt!" Ginny started to pout phonily.

"Oh, did it then? And how can I make it up to you?" 

"Hmmm…meet me in the Quidditch field after breakfast. I want to get my dignity back."

"Oh right. What's waiting for me there?"

Ginny looked genuinely hurt, her eyes over-bright. "N-nothing." She turned away from him, sniffling, and shoulders shaking. 

Harry took her hand gingerly. "I'm sorry Ginny. I'll be there, okay?" She nodded, and walked away, smiling evilly. 

She was too happy to be mad. Harry had finally come up with an April Fools Day joke after years of enduring them. Sure, it was weak, but it was still there. It was a start. He'd be a true Weasley some day.

~*~*~*~

Breakfast that day wasn't exactly a quiet affair. Curses and Counter Curses were flying this way and that. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny quickly piled their breakfasts onto plates and dodged several curses on the way to the Charms classroom. There, they had a fairly peaceful breakfast. Each was lost in their own thought. Ron was thinking about the Cannons and the rest were thinking about…well…_other _things. 

~*~*~*~

The day was breezy and warm as Harry Potter stepped out onto the Quidditch field, his broom in hand. Ginny met him just below the Hufflepuff hoops. She looked a little bit winded, as though she'd been running. 

"Okay," she said, "here's what's happening. We're playing for… my dignity."

"Gin, I didn't mean for," but he was silenced with a wave of her hand. 

"No. This is my turn. Let me explain the rules."

"I think I know the rules to Quidditch," Harry stated, amused.

"Thank you, Mr. Know-it-all, but we aren't playing Quidditch."

"No?"

"No, we're playing Sockie Hockey." Ginny beamed at his confused expression. "Now, here's how you play…"

~*~*~*~

"Asper abdo," Ginny muttered pointing her wand at the ground. A thick silver stream immediately flowed from the tip, covering the ground. It was cold and became hard and glossy after a few seconds. 

"There!" she cried. "We have ice!"

Ginny handed him a pair of old ice skates and a glossy hockey stick. She put her own skates on and gestured Harry to follow suit. 

Picking up his hockey stick and bashing it ridiculously on the ice like he'd seen professional hockey players do, Harry started to skate shakily. 

"Actually, you can put down the stick. We don't need it, it's just for decoration," Ginny stated. Harry shrugged and tossed it aside.

Five people started crossing the grounds to the field. When they came closer, Harry could see that they were Dean Thomas, Hermione, Seamus Finnigan, Neville and Dennis Creevey. 

"What are they doing here?" 

"Well, Dean and Seamus are on my team. Neville and Dennis are on yours…and Hermione is the score keeper. We're both Scorers, Neville and Seamus are Defenders, and Dennis and Dean are the Keepers." To this, Harry paled. Dennis and Neville? This was going to be a long game.

There was a lot of laughter and talking when they had all gathered together. Hermione went over to set up the Hampers on either side of the field.

"Are we all ready to go then?"

The play began. Players whipped past Harry as he started to skate. Hermione threw this fragile thing called a "Sockie" into the air, and all of a sudden…he had her. He started to move towards the hamper when…Sockie bit his finger, causing him to topple. The Sockie was flying through the air, about to land on her…toes. 

Suddenly, Seamus caught her and handed her off to Ginny, who gently tossed her into the hamper, shouting "Sockie!!!" Dennis looked at the Sockie confusedly and then the play started over. It was incredible, Harry admitted, to see the speed at which these goals were scored. Sure, he was practically just standing there, but hey, even the professionals had to start somewhere. 

Within an hour, the game had almost been lost. The score? Oh…nine to zero, but hey…who was counting? Neville was fumbling toward him, Sockie in hand. Now was his chance. Neville handed the Sockie to him and off he went. He was faster than a speeding turtle, more powerful than a shrew, and almost able to skate two feet without falling over. There was the Hamper. Time seemed to slow down as he moved to toss her in. 

She flew towards the Hamper just as he shouted "Sockie!!!" and…landed safely. It was amazing. He reveled in this for a moment as he watched Ginny make her winning goal. 

Ginny slid over, all dignity restored. He reached to take her hand, but his arms were pulled above his hand by some unknown force. Then, like a marionette, he was forced to start ice dancing. Harry twirled and leaped like a professional, pulling a few extraordinary stunts. 

The rest of the players looked on admiringly as he spun like a ballerina. Then, his clothes were pink and formfitting. A tutu surrounded his waist. An odd tingling sensation of his scalp signaled that his black hair was growing fast and he could suddenly see his eyelashes. The worst was yet to come, it seemed, for then he started to sing an opera song that he'd never heard of before. 

By then, a throng of people had gathered around to see what was going on, and all were doubled over in laughter. Cameras were clicking wildly. Then, finally, the song ended and his hair and eyelashes started to recede. His clothing was no longer that of a ballerina and he fell sprawled out on the ice. 

"Hmmm…" he asked, "not exactly original, Gin."

"I know, but what can I say? I have a repetitive mind." Her eyes twinkled as she helped him up. "Come on, let's take a walk."

~*~*~*~

An hour later, Harry and Ginny were seated on a boulder overlooking the lake. They were both too tired to make the journey to Hogsmeade.

"Truce?" Ginny asked, holding up a hand.

"Truce." Harry clasped his hand with hers and they looked out into the lake.

The Giant Squid was propelling itself lazily across the surface of the lake, oblivious to all the world around it.

"So, where did you get that spell today?" asked Ginny, curious.

"Oh…out of a book they had in the Library. Some of the stuff in it was actually pretty disturbing."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Here, let me show you." With that, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the Giant Squid, muttering something. Magically, this pink tubular monstrosity appeared on it, which could only be strawberry edible underwear. Ginny giggled as the Giant Squid froze in shock.

Then, a gigantic bubble formed on the surface of the lake. When it popped, another Giant Squid could be seen pushing itself up to the surface of the lake. This one was unmistakably female, and it proceeded to cuddle up to the squid, eating the strawberry underwear.

Ginny, it seemed, was right. Some things were better left undiscovered. 

****

A/N: The inspiration for the Strawberry Edible Underwear-wearing Squid was from Paula, who probably 

didn't realize it'd be taken this far. 

10 house points to whomever can tell me where I got the whole "It's 2:26 A.M. and I have 47 cracks in my ceiling" thing. 

Also, to answer an…_interesting_ question, yes. American tea is awful. They're always trying to copy the Chinese, the English, or another culture. Now, this wouldn't be bad if they didn't get it so _horribly_ wrong. Ick. My tea? Imported. J 


End file.
